


Of Stories and Legends

by SweetDeceit



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dragonborn is half elf half nord, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, It takes a long time though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1909848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetDeceit/pseuds/SweetDeceit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia is meeting her Thane, who is also the Dragonborn, will he be all she thought he would be? How will their relationship progress throughout their adventures? And will their pasts ruin their future together? Lydia/M Dragonborn. Summary sucks, first fanfic, please R&R! Rated M for language, violence, and sexual themes later on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

_**Author's Note: Alright, first Fanfic! Woo! Okay, so please be kind. I suck so bad at beginnings. But I swear Lydia will develop an actual personality as I go. But for right now she's just a little un-feeling robot. Anyway, I do not in any way, shape, or form own any of the characters besides my OC who you will meet shortly. All rights go to Bethesda!** _

_**Hail Talos! or whoever.** _

**Of Stories and Legends**

It all started with a story. A story of a dragon, just outside of Whiterun. Off to the western watchtower. At first, I thought it was just a rumor. Then, Jarl Balgruuf deployed Irileth and some of his personal guards to the watchtower.

But one other accompanied Irileth that day, it was he who would slay the dragon and become Whiterun's hero. And it was he whose shout echoed through the city, to be answered by the Greybeards themselves.

And now, he was to be a Thane of Whiterun. My Thane to guide, defend, and oversee.

_Lucky me._

I was told he would be arriving soon to meet me and formally receive his title. But 'soon' had passed hours ago. Balgruuf had dozed off to sleep on his throne and Irileth's blue skin was practically violet in anger. The Jarl's steward and wizard were seated at one of the long, grand dining tables and were well on their way to succumbing to the poison that they called mead. I could hear them clearly as they told dirty jokes and gossiped of the townsfolk.

_What a couple of fishwives._

I was standing to the Jarl's left, listening to the sound of his snores echoing through the great hall. I look to one of the distant windows and see the storm has not yet stopped. The night was shattered nearly every minute or so by a brilliant streak of light, and the crash of the Divines smiting the evil from this world. Or so I was told as a child. As the lightning flashed, and the thunder roared, I thought of the dragonborn.

The Jarl had told me little about him, only that he was a Nord, and had a big ego. _Yep, because we have so_ _few_ _of those in Skyrim._ But I couldn't help but wonder of his appearance.

Irileth had said once under her breath of him being a stupid, happy, oaf. Using what little imagination and information I have, I picture the great hero of Whiterun.

Tall, muscular, blonde, with shining blue eyes, walking with grace and authority up to the Jarl. Then, bending his knee, in his heavy armor made of well-crafted steel, his great sword's hilt peeking from behind his back. When the Jarl asks him to rise he would lift his head to show a prominent beard, and a face full of respect for Whiterun's leader. His voice would be deep and hoarse, he knew the way of the voice after all. He would have a grand horse, a great big warhorse like those portrayed in the stories of Imperial Generals.

The sound of the hall's doors being pushed open snapped me out of my vision. The doors hummed against the stone floor of the keep, the sound of the storm echoed through the hall, though it was too dark to see anything on the other side of the door.

The Jarl awakened from his harmonious slumber and Irileth glared at the door in a most uninviting way. A dark shape formed in the doorway, pushing both massive doors open further. _Strength; check._ The figure had a dark hood pulled over their face. From the distance, I couldn't be sure if the figure actually was the dragonborn, though the scowl on Irileth's face told me it was him. I looked at the height next. _Tall; check._

Irileth's spiteful monotone broke the silence in the hall then, "It's about damn time. I was about to tell the guards to be on the lookout for any idiots drowning in the rain." The shape turned back to the doors and shut them easily, denying the harsh storm access to the warm, cozy keep.

The figure turned back then and walked up the aisle, his walk was slow, teaming with confidence. When he got close enough, I could see he was soaking wet, but I could also make out his armor. Brown, mostly hide and cloth, a hood, lots of pockets. This were all signs for one guild in particular. The thieves guild. Then again, I could be mistaken. "Now, now Irileth," his voice was deep and rich, yet softer than she imagined, "Is that any way to welcome the hero of the hour? Besides, it's impossible to drown in the rain. It defies nature."

Irileth huffed, "Trust me, an idiot of your stature could surely find a way, and as for you being the 'hero of the hour' you missed that by about five hours." Irileth's voice overflowed with annoyance for this stranger. "And I'll remind you that you are not yet a Thane, and it's never too late to revoke your title. You'd do well to remember that, Markus." _Markus. Markus. His name was Markus. I had expected something like Borgnaan or Alvor. Something that swelled with Nord pride._

"True, though you never mentioned punctuality as one of the job descriptors." Markus joked.

"Enough, you two." Jarl Balgruuf's voice boomed. "It's been a long enough wait, I would prefer to get this done with and retire for the evening." His voice was rough with need for proper sleep.

By now the hooded frame had nearly reached the center of the room, as he walked he pushed his hood back. As he did so, he revealed his true appearance for my appraisement. His hair was short and as black as the night sky, it clung to his head from the rain of the storm. His jaw was strong, and his chin was angled perfectly. His nose was perfectly portioned for the rest of his features. His eye color was easily seen, even from several feet away. They were a luminous green, like a flawless emerald.

But, something wasn't right. Most Nords had very blunt, strong faces. Sure, his was as strong as any, but it was more angled, more cut. He had no facial hair save for small sideburns on the sides of his face. That was also odd for a Nord. Beards were a mark of honor; the thicker, the better. Yet, he had none? Was he even a Nord?

By now, Markus had reached the beginning of the steps that ascended to the Jarl's throne. I couldn't help but notice his strange beauty. It seemed….foreign. Odd. Maybe even alien. "I am sorry, Jarl, but there were some…complications on the way back from High Hrothgar." His face lightened then, showing a white smile, "Did you know that trolls can be killed much, much faster by fire than swords?" He chuckled lightly, "Because I sure didn't," The Jarl sighed, I could sense Irileth's eyes rolling. "I must have spent damn near two hours hitting that thing and then rolling out of the way of its swings. Then a hunter happened along and shot it with five flaming arrows and…. Well, let's just say he'll be eating well tonight." His eyes turned to me then, he looked me up and down, gave a one sided grin, and turned back to the Jarl, "And well, Chipp hates storms. I had to cover her eyes with one of my shirts and guide her into town while petting her and talking to her. Otherwise she would've run off." I decided that Chipp must have been his warhorse….however flighty she was.

"You talk far too much for my liking, you are wasting everyone's time!" Irileth had lost her patience.

"Aye, son, we really do need to be moving along now. Let's begin." The Jarl rose from his throne and commenced with the ceremony. A ceremony to instate a Thane is not so different than a knighting ceremony, really. Though Markus needed a little instruction throughout the ceremony. _Hasn't he ever seen a knighting?_ This man was strange.

At the end of it, she stepped forward, "Ah, yes, as a Thane of Whiterun you now can purchase property within the city. This is Lydia, she is to be your housecarl. I'm sure you're familiar with housecarl, and if you're not well, Lydia will explain." The Jarl announced his retirement for the night and left without supper, eager for more sleep.

Markus turned his eyes to me, and once again looked me up and down. "So…. what does a housecarl actually do?" His voice sincere in his lack of knowledge in this subject. Though everyone in Skyrim had heard of housecarls and their thanes….right?

I answered the best I could, using as little words as possible, not wanting to drag this meeting on. "Whatever my Thane asks of me." He looked away for a moment, his brow furrowed, yet his mouth smirking.

"So you basically follow me around and do what I say?" His voice was full of disbelief.

"In essence, yes."

"Huh, that sounds rather dull. Or it would be for any other housecarl." I had to question that.

"Any _other_ housecarl? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well, you see, I'm not really a stay-at-home kind of Thane. No doubt by now they've told you I am the dragonborn, and being such I an destined to do something of great importance." His face was confident and his eyes full of dreams. Dreams of adventure and victory, no doubt.

"Ummm…. What is this thing of great importance?" I said, slightly mockingly.

"I'm not quite sure yet. But I'll let you know when I find that out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to change before dinner. Feel free to start without me." With a slight nod to both Irileth and myself, he was off to a guest room to change.

Markus left to change into something less…..well soaking wet. Which left me, and Irileth sitting at the dining table in a most awkward fashion. I tried to make the most of it. "So _this_ is Whiterun's Thane? I expected someone more…." I trailed off, not knowing what to say. I had imagined the exact opposite of what walked through the door. The only thing that could have made him any more different was him actually being an Orc.

"Intelligent? Respectful? No, they never are." Irileth said in a dry intone. "I wish you luck with this one, I'm glad I'm not in your shoes." I looked down at the table, The food had been sitting there for hours, but it called to my empty stomach. "My Thane may be a flaming idiot, but at least he has the sense to listen take council when he needs it." Irileth looked over to the other table, where the steward and wizard had passed out. The steward had since fallen from his chair and was under the table. The wizard was slumped over the table, neither looked like they would wake soon. "Then again, I have these two trolls to look after as well." I chuckled at that, Irileth was constantly complaining about someone or something, but she could be funny when she wanted to.

"I'm sure I'll have enough wit for both me and Markus to stay alive," Irileth's head snapped back to me at the mention of Markus's name.

"Do not speak your Thane's name. It is a sign of disrespect. Surely you remember this?" Of course. How could I have forgotten so easily? A fool's mistake. I felt my cheeks turn warm in embarrassment, and I sat silently. Then Irileth continued, "And another thing, Lydia." Her face changed deadly serious. "Try not to get…too close to this one. I fear for your safety if you do. Try to stay as distant as possible. From him and his words." Her voice was full of caution, yet a protective tone shadowed it. Her red eyes bored into me, demanding an answer from my lips.

I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a masculine voice coming from the hallway. "My armor was easily ten pounds heavier with all that water," Markus walked in, wearing a white cambric shirt, which hung loosely on his tall frame. He rubbed a towel in his pitch black hair, leaving it pointing every direction. His pants were a dark brown, his boots were knee-high and were just a couple shades darker than his pants. I noticed a brown string hung around his tan neck, and a small lump hung on his chest, just under his shirt.

_An amulet maybe? If he's hiding it, it must be one for Talos._

He laughed a rough laugh when he saw the Steward and the Wizard. "Which one drank the other one under the table first?" He asked.


	2. Flames and Wickedness

"Which one drank the other one under the table first?" He asked as he strode in, and took his seat. Irileth sat at the head of the table, I sat to her right, and Markus had taken the seat across from me to her left. "I'd put my gold on the steward outlasting magic-boy." The warm candlelight cast brilliant shadows across his face, accentuating his angled features. His tanned skin tone seemed to glow under the flame's gaze.

Now that he had finally made it to the dinning table, the servants began to buzz all around us; piling food on our plates, filling our tankards with mead, and playing songs with their instruments. During that time, Markus looked to be confused as to why people were rushing around him, throwing things on his plate. He looked down at his plate with a furrowed brow and a set jaw. "Something wrong, my thane…?" The last two words felt bitter in my mouth.

_Is this really who I'll be serving for the rest of my life?_

His head lifted, the confusion in his face melting away instantly. "Hmm? No, it's nothing." He then lifted his knife and fork and began to cut into the horker meat he had been staring at. Irileth put her tankard down from the swig she had just taken.

"Now, you mentioned earlier you made the trip to High Hrothgar? To the Greybeards," Irileth spoke as she herself began cutting apart the horker. "How was it? Do they live up to the legends?" Her voice was even, though I felt the curiosity beneath it. I was curious, too.

He swallowed a mouthful, took a drink, then spoke. "Well, their beards _are_ very long and grey, but I'm guessing that's not what you wanted to hear," another sip, "they taught me some new shouts, explained how to ' _be_ ' the dragonborn, and not much else." Irileth's face froze in utter disbelief, I'd imagine mine was the same way.

"That's all? They didn't say anything about the dragons coming back, or how to stop them, or anything?!" For once, Irileth sounded panicked, however lightly it showed.

He paused for a second, staring off at nothing as if he were trying to remember what the Greybeards had said. "I think they honestly didn't know. They thought that the dragons coming back and me showing up were connected; but anyone could've guessed that,"

"So, that's it, then? The Greybeards teach you a couple of magic tricks, tell you to be a 'good little dovahkiin' and send you on your way?! No, no, they _must_ know _something_ about what's happening. Dragons don't just zap back from extinction," Irileth's venomous face commanded my silence. I looked over to Markus, whose face suddenly looked very tired and worn.

"Yeah, you'd think the guys that speak the 'dragon's language' would be able to ask one for some answers, huh?" I rolled my eyes; his constant joking was getting old quickly. He lifted one of his hands and rubbed his jaw line. "Listen, I don't know what's going on, I don't think anyone really has the answers about this sort of thing. I think we're just going to have to piece it together as we go," he looked down, stabbed another piece of horker onto his fork. I turned back to my food and began eating again. "and kill every fire breathing son-of-a-bitch we can along the way." He looked up and gave me a mischievous smirk.

After that, dinner was filled with pointless small talk. Mostly between Irileth and Markus. I was still marveling at Talos's sense of humor.

Once it was over I walk back to my room; my armored boots slapping against the cold stone floor being the only sound that could be heard through the tapestry strewn halls. I made the last turn and found the door to my room. Once I open my door I look at the plain but comfortable room I've called home for so long. I stride in and begin to remove my armor in pieces, starting with by breastplate.

 _This arrogant ass is going to save Skyrim? Talos guide us, this is who we're counting on to save us?_ ***snap*** _Leaves us waiting there for_ _ **hours**_ _, I hope he knows the dragons won't wait for him to show to begin burning a village to the ground._ _ *****_ **click** ** _*_**

The pressure on my chest from the breastplate is instantly relieved, I lift it off my head and hang it on the armor stand which is next to the window of the room. I remove the gloves and boots easily, then tug off the pants. I stretch my muscles; grateful to have the heavy armor off my shoulders. I walk to the dresser and find the cotton night clothes I long for. As I am slipping them on, I watch the fireplace.

The flame emitted a brilliant yellow-orange glow throughout the room. Then I remember the look of the western watchtower after the dragon had been slain; the tower was in shambles, rubble strewn all around the last standing section of the tower. Fire was all around the grizzly scene, lifeless Whiterun guards littered the ground, most were beyond recognition.

I knew men stationed at that tower. They were good friends. Good men. Enrion, Darnius, and Ferlot had all perished in the battle.

The fireplace grew blurry, and my eyes stung with despair.

_Enrion's wife was still in shock, his children howled out in mourning when he didn't return from his shift, news had already spread through the town about the dragon at the watchtower. Darnius's parents had grown hateful and withdrawn when they heard the news. Ferlot didn't have anyone left to mourn his passing, the war had taken them all away from him._

My arm flies up to my face to wipe away my sadness. I turn and walk to my bed, and pull back the heavy tan sheets. I crawl inside and cover myself, and shiver. The sheets are cold at first, but they warm after a few seconds.

_They're the reason this_ _**has** _ _to work; I won't let their passing mean nothing. Markus_ _**must** _ _succeed. I won't let him fail. If I have to throw his dead body at a dragon to kill it, I will._

As I fluff my pillow I keep seeing his smirk in my mind.

This may be a game to him, but its not to me. Not to Skyrim.

I put my head down and clear my mind of all thoughts of dragons and death. But I can't shake that smirk from my eyes. That damn smirk that oozed confidence, paired with those brilliant emerald orbs.

I toss and turn in an attempt to escape his ghostly gaze. I clench my eyes closed and force him from my mind, and finally feel sleep's arms welcome me.

_The town ahead was small; no more than a farm and a couple houses, maybe a tavern too. I walk slowly, hearing the gravel crunch under my boots. Ahead I spot a young woman carrying a bucket of water to a small barn. People start buzzing around the streets, going in and out of houses, into the local trader, and carrying on with their day. The sun was bright and a small breeze blew in, crisp with morning air. I breathed deep; wanting to take in more of the sweet air as I edge closer to the town. I look at a little sign that reads "Welcome to Nyrondale" in cursive script._

_I stop dead in my tracks. There was an unnatural shift in the air; something wasn't right. I turn to look behind me, nothing but a peaceful looking mountainside. I laugh at myself; "Keep it together, Lydia." I turn back to the little town._

_But it's not the same town anymore; it's a mangled mess of stone, fire, and corpses. The clear sky had morphed into darkness, with clouds circling above me. The fires raged in the town; smoke piling into the sky, flames reflecting shades of red onto the clouds. I look back to the town, and see the woman on the ground in the middle of the street; her light blue dress was charred from the nearby flames and her blonde hair was smothered with black soot._

_I run to her and drop down to my knees to turn her over. But as her head turns with her body, it's clear she's dead; a look of horror frozen on her delicate face. I look up, feeling the same breeze as before the town was in ruin._

_Then, a figure in the middle of the flames catches my eye. I squint; straining to see more. The figure moves closer, until it is out of the flames and then breaks the veil of smoke, letting its identity be known._

_"Markus! Where's the dragon?!" I look again to the skies, trying to find the beast again._

_I hear his laugh, and turn back; my face boiling from the heat, and face twisted with anger and confusion. He had on heavy, black armor; it looked as if it was shrouded in shadow; though there was none present in the center of the fire._

Why is he laughing?! What's wrong with him?!

_His laughing subsided, "What dragon, Lyd?" He gave the same cocky smirk that he had done before at dinner. His emerald eyes were illuminated from the destruction of the town. "I don't see any dragon. Maybe they saw something," his voice was thick with venom. He lifted a pitch black gauntlet, and pointed behind me._

_I turned my head slowly, half not wanting to see what he was pointing at. Three large boxes were standing side by side in the middle of the street. Then it hits me; they weren't boxes. They were…_

Coffins….

_As if on cue, the hinges on the boxes creaked open. I knew which three would be inside even before they opened._

Enrion. Darnius. Ferlot.

_All three of my former friends stared at me, eyes clouded over with death. Their skin pale, and powdered looking. They are all wearing the Whiterun uniform, but something was obviously wrong._

_All of them had been badly burned at the watchtower; in fact that's the reason they had all perished in the fight. But there were no burns to be seen._

_I turned back to Markus; his head was angled down, but his eyes were straight towards me. He had a wicked grin on his face, his teeth shinning. Then, he started laughing again. But, it wasn't his laugh; it was deep and bellowing. Yet, with every moment it grew louder, deeper, and more menacing._

_His face began to twist and contort, the smoke enveloped him, though I could spot his silhouette through the devilish fog. His shape grew and transformed, at first I couldn't tell what it was. Then, it spread its wings. With one flap from the powerful appendages, the smoke was cleared, revealing a huge dragon. It was as unnaturally black as Markus's armor had been. Then I looked into its eyes_.

_They were green. Emerald green._

Markus.

_The beast wasn't laughing as Markus had been, but rumbled deep inside its throat, sending puffs of smoke from its massive mouth, which was full of enlarged teeth. The beast looked past me, then I realized its intentions. As it opened its mouth, I screamed, "NO! NO! DON'T! MARKUS!" flames blew right over my head and engulfed the three coffins._

_I watched as my friends disintegrated into ashes. My eyes were drowning in tears now, as the breeze from his wings spread the ashes through the sky. I turned to look at Markus, I swear if dragons could smile…..he would've been._

_The rumbling noise started again. I closed my eyes and waited for the end._

A force suddenly shakes me from the nightmare. "-iss Lydia! Miss Lydia!" I open my eyes to see an elven maid shaking me. "Oh thank the divines! You're finally awake! Quickly, you must get ready! We have word from a refugee, a dragon is attacking a town outside of Whiterun. Your Thane has left in advance for some supplies and to fetch some fresh horses for you both, I was told to wake you." Her voice was high and squeaky; a very unpleasant thing to wake up to. "Markus has instructed you to get ready and meet him by Whiterun's gate, then you'll both set off Southwest of here. Please hurry Miss Lydia." And with that, she was gone.

I rub my heavy eyes as I make my way to the armor stand. As I remove my sleeping clothes and replace them with armor, flashes of the nightmare creep into my mind. Markus's face haunts my mind. The way it had twisted into something so evil.

I shiver at the thought. I finish getting dressed and hurry to meet Markus by the gate. When I arrive, I find him standing by two white horses. He looks at me and laughs for a long minute. "Something _funny,_ Thane?" He wipes a tear away from his eye. I then realize that my hair was in a mess. I'd forgotten to comb it in my haste to meet him.

"Had a wild night then, eh?"


	3. On This Day

"Had a wild night then, eh?" He smiled, showing his teeth. He didn't wait for my response as he mounted one of the horses. I tried to smooth my hair the best I could with steel gloves on, though I doubt it did much good. I was about to mount when I heard his voice call to me, "C'mon, Lydia! There's a dragon just waiting to be slain!"

The nerve of this fool. Thinking he's so much more than what he actually is.

"I'm about to slay you in a minute…." I muttered under my breath as I mounted my horse and set off to catch him.

We'd been riding for hours, the sun had reached its peak long ago, the day had grown hot and muggy from last night's rain. We'd passed through hills, rivers, towns, fields, and about every other landscape Skyrim had to offer.

I'd begun to wonder whether or not there'd be anything left of the town by the time we got there. Or if we'd even make it there. Markus had only taken out his map once along the way, and losing your way in Skyrim was easy. But I was surprised by his concentration; I thought he'd be just as annoying and talkative as always was, but his mind was clearly set on his direction.

My armor was rubbing turning my skin sore from the constant motion, and was beginning to burn. We were ascending a hillside when Markus slowed his horse and dismounted.

I look around, trying to find the town or a trail to follow. But neither were to be found. "Where's the town? Why are we stopping?" I ask, genuinely confused. He was currently taking some items from his horse's saddle and placing them in his pockets.

"The path into the town is just 'round the corner, past this hill," he nodded his head to a steep and rocky hill, and began to tie his horse's reins to a nearby tree. "but I'd rather not lead the horses straight to a dragon, they'll just end up dead. So from here on we're going on foot."

"Are you sure we should just walk right in? What if the dragon is planning an ambush or something?" I ask, slightly annoyed by his head-on approach.

He scoffed at my questions, his face was slightly mocking. "Lydia, dragons don't lay traps. I would know. After all, I _am_ the dragonborn." His hands pointed towards his face, and he gave me a wide, cocky smile.

A fire began to burn in my throat.

"You've only fought **one** dragon, I think we should climb over the hill and look down at the town from there. That way we'll still be under the cover of the trees, and the dragon can't effectively attack us from there." He rolled his eyes, and turned to walk around the hill.

"Lydia, I'm the one with dragon-fighting experience here. They don't lay traps, they aren't smart enough for that," I dismount quickly, and tie off my horse.

_Or maybe you're not smart enough to take caution when you should. Moron._

"besides," he turned then to face me, he had a crooked smile that showed his teeth and one eyebrow was perched high on his brow. "I'll protect you from the big bad dragon." I can feel my veins begin to boil under my skin.

I roll my eyes, well aware of the fact that his eyes were still on me. I respond by brushing by him, and moving along quickly, leaving him to follow. I hear a quiet chuckle from behind me, then his footsteps begin to echo my own. The only noises that can be heard between us are the sounds of my heavy armor shifting with movement, my shield slams against it with every stride, and his boots shift rocks and gravel loose from their resting places.

A breath of wind suddenly blows in our faces, carrying with it a thick, musty, smell.

_Smoke._

Flashes of my dream stream into my mind, clouding my vision. Markus picks up his pace, and is soon right next to me, he must've smelled the smoke too, because he nearly doubled his pace. As we rounded the corner, I thought we would have a clear view of the town, but there was only a path in sight.

The path led up a hill, which we could not see over, but the sky above it is clouded and grey, and the smell of smoke grows stronger and stronger with every step I take.

I know what's waiting for us atop the hill; a destroyed town, burned and bloody corpses, and a wicked dragon. I look over at Markus, his brow was pushed together slightly with caution, his jaw set firmly in suspense.

Yes, I know what I will see, because it's all coming back to me now; the hill is the same, the path is the same, and seemingly every tree is the same.

_But if everything is the same….then Markus is….No. No, no, no, no. Get a hold of yourself, Lydia. Markus isn't a dragon, and your friends are buried back in Whiterun. It was just a silly dream._

_Then again, if it was just a 'silly dream' then why is everything the same?_

I push all thoughts from my head, not wanting to hear the feud my mind was waging with itself. I strain my neck, and catch the first glimpse of a stone chimney, standing alone, without a house attached to it. A few more steps and the town, or rather what's left of the town, blooms into our sight.

One or two stone structures are still standing, but surrounding them are piles of burnt wood and crumbled stone chimneys. Bodies litter the ground, some charred, some with large gashes scattered on them, and one or two were even missing their torsos.

Then, a streak of color off in the street catches my eye. Light blue fabric, attached to a small form, laying in the exact middle of the town. Another flash of my dream blurs my vision. I see the woman's face, cold, dead, and staring.

For the most part, the fires had all gone out, only some isolated flames continued to burn and sizzle, throwing small amounts of smoke in the air. The only sound in the town is of our movements, we keep moving through the town. For a reason unseen, we just keep moving through.

We are only a couple feet from the young woman's body now. I stare at her as if my gaze will bring her back, somehow. But, after seeing no movement from her form, I look away towards the wreckage that surrounds us.

A half moan, half gurgle, snaps my attention back to the woman from my dream. I see her head turn over to face us. "No….leave…leave now…..before…" Her voice sounds pained, and gravelly.

I feel a rush of panic to reach the woman, and help her in any way I can. But as I take the first hurried steps towards her, a deathly familiar breeze sweeps my dark hair in front of my face. I stop, and Markus sprints ahead of me. He kneels down to the woman's side, and she reaches a charred hand out to his face. Her hair was dark with soot, just as it had been in my dream. Markus took her hand in his and talked to her, but I can't hear the words. I feel numb with fear.

I see a dark spot move from the peak of the mountain, not much higher than the town. I turn my head to look and see a figure gliding down onto our location. It's not hard to guess what it is. I open my mouth to call to Markus, or say something, anything.

But the words won't come to me. I watch as the dragon swoops down, Markus still hasn't realized its presence. He's trying to help the woman, but she's spotted the dragon in the sky, too, and becomes hysterical, screaming and yelling, but the words are incoherent. With every moment that passes the dragon draws closer.

Then, the silence is shattered by the dragon's hoarse call. Markus's head snaps up, and seeing the dragon approaching, he tries to help the woman up. The woman is screaming and crying, either from pain, or fear, or both. Markus tries to drape her arm over his shoulders, but she pulls back, and tries to push him away.

Another call ripples through the heavy air, reminding Markus of the impending danger. He looks over at me, stands up, and shakes his head in annoyance. The woman is still lying on the ground, and is as frantic as ever. But Markus begins running towards me, unsheathing his sword in the process. "C'mon Lyd, we gotta get to higher ground," He grabs my arm to turn me in the direction he is headed, but I snap my arm back, and he turns to face me with a confused and slightly angered face.

"And what about her?" I look back to the sobbing woman, "We can't just leave her out in the open, she's injured," His hand folds around my arm again, his fingers warm on my bare skin as he gently pulls me again.

"There's no time, she's dying anyway," His voice is cold and unconcerned, as if he were speaking of an animal, to be skinned and butchered. The small woman was on her side in the street, sobbing and moaning.

_Darnius….Ferlot…..Enrion….Is this how it ended for you? Did anyone even try to save you?_

"we're wasting time, we have to find a better position to fight, if we stay out in the open we're done for." His hand clamps tightly now, pulling harder. I turn to look at his face, his forehead covered in angered lines, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes boring into me. His harsh expression draws my dream into my mind, his eyes burn with the same intensity as they had in my dream. They burn just the same, and his face looks just how it did before….before _he_ became the monster.

I look back to the woman again, finding her in the same spot, I break his grip once more and sprint

to the woman's side, my heavy armor slapping against me with every stride. "Lyd! It's no use!" His voice calls behind me. I take the woman's hand and she looks up at me with a face filled with horror and suffering. Her face covered in dirt and soot, the only clean places on her face were the streaks where the tears ran down her face.

I loop her arm around my shoulders, as Markus had done, and once again the woman pulls back. Another call ripples through the air, only now it has grown louder and most definitely closer. I look up and find the dragon is dangerously close to our location. I turn back to the woman, and slide my arm underneath her legs, and place my other arm against her back. I lift her up, and she stops trying to fight me, for fear of being dropped on her already aching wounds.

I spot a stone building down the rubble-strewn streets, one of the only structures still standing. I begin moving toward the building, I cannot run, the woman in my arms is too heavy along with my armor and weapons. My arms begin to burn, and every step seems like a struggle.

_Only a little farther….Just hold on….Don't let go….Come on Lydia…_

I can feel the woman sinking lower and lower in my grip, and I realize there's no way I can carry her all the way there. But Markus appears in front of me suddenly, his face still annoyed, but his face is gentler, more human than before. I feel his arms slipping into the place mine had been. "Get out your bow, run to the guard tower just over there," he motions with his head to a small tower, with an archer post at the top. "lure the dragon over there, just shoot some arrows at it and it'll follow. I'll be there as soon as I can." and with that, he turned and took off toward the building, he held the woman easily up to his chest, allowing him to run.

I reach for my bow and look once more to the sky, finding the dragon now hovering above, trying to decide which of us to make his prey. I draw an arrow and pull it tight against the bowstring, and as the dragon focuses on me, I release the arrow and it shoots forward into the dragon's belly.

An angry call sounds, and the dragon dives down through the air, heading straight for me. I turn to run to the tower, with the dragon in pursuit, looking back I see the dragon has opened its wings and is gliding just above the ground close behind. I push on, and double my pace, my metal boots clank against the cobblestones as I run down the street with fresh ruins on either side of me.

But the dragon gaining on me too fast, I look back again and see the beast opening its mouth, allowing me a look deep inside its throat, where a flame is pushing itself forth. I dive behind a half-standing wall to my left, careful not to land on my bow, and cringe as flames shoot past the wall, and far beyond the spot I had just been. Heat from the flames force sweat to form on my face. Then, the flames stop, leaving the cobblestones scorched. The ground shakes then, a clear sign that the dragon had landed.

I hear the sound of its breathing, I feel the vibrations of the beast's steps. The breaths grow louder, and the vibrations stronger. I realize the dragon is coming closer to the wall now, I draw another arrow and pull it tight against the bowstring once more. I aim to my right, waiting for the beast to come into view, and walk beyond the small wall.

_Is it….looking for me..? Or for my body..? How smart are dragons supposed to be?_

My breaths are shaky, and my hands tremble, my bow sways left to right as a pitch black snout slips into view. Its nostrils are flared, small front teeth peek out from the monster's closed mouth. ***bumm, bumm, bumm*** With each step, more of the snout is revealed, and with each step my fear grows until it sits like a lump in my throat. ***bumm, bumm,***

_Talos, guide me, oh please guide me._

***bumm, bumm, bumm*** The dragon's front legs and shoulder blades are in sight now, but its head is turned to the right, inspecting the scene to its right, in search of it's prey. In search of me. My arms are still outstretched, holding my bow tightly, but my arms are even more unsteady now, seeing this massive beast before me.

Then, it's head swings forward, in the direction of the guard tower. I involuntarily shudder, catching the scent of the dragon. It smelled of char and what can only be described as a musky thickness. The smell is overpowering, and I gag against my will, a small sound seeping from my throat.

And just like that, I'm face-to-face with a monster, the movement of its head was a mere blur. Two wicked black horns top it's massive head, large scales coat the sides of it's head. But the eyes. The eyes are piercing, and inject me with fear. A horrible, paralyzing fear. They are an unnatural gold, as dark and rich as the sparks from a fire.

It's head rears back, then comes back down, mouth open, and another flame ignites inside it's mouth. My eyes grow wide, as the lump in my throat drops into my stomach.

_Weak spot, weak spot, where do I shoot? I only have one chance…._

I steady my hand as much as I can, take aim, and release my arrow. And the arrow finds its mark into the beast's nose. And immediately the dragon rears back, in clear distress.

_Now! Go now! Here's my chance! The guard tower….But where's Markus? Oh who cares… blundering idiot._

I push myself off of the wall and sprint adown the street once more, ignoring the snorts and hisses of the dragon. I clasp the bow tight in my right hand, my shield and sword slam hard against my armored back, rattling and clanking uncontrollably. But I don't have time for stealth.

Another vibration ripples under me, and the sounds of flapping wings tell me the dragon has taken off into the sky. The tower is so close, I push my pace further, trying desperately to reach the safety of the stone walls.

My breathing is heavy, and I can feel wisps of wind being flung from underneath the dragon's wings. ***Flap,*** More wind, ***Flap,*** another gust, closer this time. Then, another roar sounds. But the entrance to the tower is just ahead of me, and I fling myself through it., just as the dragon dive bombs into the ground, just outside the sturdy tower.

I lift myself up to look back at the door across from me and see the dragon's face looking in at me. I scramble to get up, and stumble up the stone stairs that will surely lead to the top turret. I had just started up the stairs when another blast of flames ignited through the doorway.

Heat filled the tower, making me sweat even more. I reach the top of the stairs, and walk out into the open. I run past bodies of the guards, some burnt to a crisp, and some ripped apart. Running to the edge, I draw another arrow and aim at the dragon, who is looking through the doorway again. I scan its body, trying to find another weakness to exploit, but there are none in sight.

Thick, black scales coat the back of the beast, and there is no way shooting a dragon in the nose will kill it.

_If I draw the dragon back into the air by shooting at it, then I might get another shot at it's belly._

I look at the burnt guard to my left, then to the dragon again.

Then again, I'd give up my position. And I think I'd like to avoid becoming fried housecarl today.

I sigh, and release my arrow into the dragon's neck. Raising it's head, the beast finds me at the top of the turret. It swiftly pushes itself off of the ground, and gains height quickly, but circles the tower once or twice, never taking its eyes off of me. I place my bow back into it's strap on my back, and take out my shield, then unsheathemy sword.

_Talos guide my sword, and strengthen my shield. On this day, I slay a dragon._


	4. According To Plans

**Markus**

Why is it that none of my plans ever go….well, according to plan?

It was simple, really. I take the roasty-toasty girl to the safe little stone building, and Lydia lures the nasty flying lizard to the tower by shooting it with arrows.

Dropping off the oh-so-charred one was pleasantly simple. But while running back to the tower, I realized not everything was so great. From a distance, I could see the dragon had perched itself on the tower, and was occupied in attacking a figure, that I could only assume was Lyd.

And here I am, standing in the middle of the street asking myself, "What…the…fuck?"

 _Shoot arrows at it,_ I said, _Distract it,_ I said. Translate into Lydian-speak, and you get 'Get it to land on top of the tower, and then fight it with your sword!'

_Right, cause I'm sure close quartered combat works out real well when you're standing on a building. With a huge-ass dragon. That can easily knock you off. Or turn you into a Lydia-crisp. Alright, Markus….think…._

Looking around for anything to form a plan, I see nothing but remnants of the town.

_On the bright side, this is a great chance for some remodeling… But nothing useful against dragons…Guess we're going with the head-on approach._

I start sprinting to the tower, which is only a little ways away. As I come closer, I see that Lyd is actually holding her own; switching her strikes from the dragon's winged-arms, and it's lower throat. Looking closer, I see that the dragon's two back feet are standing on the small wall of the turret, leaving the dragon off balance, and vulnerable.

I smile, a plan finally forming in my head. I pass through the tower doorway and climb the stairs to the top. I draw my sword, and with a snap flames ignite in my left hand. As soon as I step out, I realize I just put my self in the middle of the fight. The dragon sits in front of me, it's head instantly snapping in my direction. I see Lydia off to my right, shield drawn, and face contorted in anger and confusion. I look back to the dragon, which is now rearing it's head back, and drawing in air.

"Oh….fuck me…" I mutter.

"Get down!" I hear Lydia say, more in anger than concern.

Everything seems to go in slow motion, as I look back to Lydia again, I decide the woman with the shield is the best bet, if not the only one, to take. I push myself forward into a roll, hoping to end up right behind Lydia. And her handy shield.

Luckily, I hit my mark, Lydia crouched down, and secured the shield to the ground. A moment later, flames shot past the spot where I had just been standing. "You have a plan?" she said, as the flames then shifted, and began pushing against the shield. I am crouching down, just a breath away from her clearly annoyed face.

I looked her annoyed face, and smiled, "Little bit of a plan, I'm still working on it." I say, as the flames begin to tunnel over the top of the shield, dropping just low enough to make it hot. "Okay, on three, drop your shield." Her look turns from annoyance to confusion.

"That's a _horrible_ plan," she said, her icy blue eyes looking up to the flames funneling just over our heads.

"One," I said, her head snapped back down to face me, her pale skin and light features clouded with an angered expression.

"I'm _not_ dropping my shield!" Her eyes now tearing into me, her expression little more than a snarl from a wolf.

"two,"

_I wonder if she'll bite my face off as a wolf would, that would be amusing. And painful… Right, focus on the dragon problem, Markus…focus on the dragon._

"You're crazy I'm not-" I stopped listening then, watching as the flames began to dwindle, until they no longer had the power to push above the shield.

"three, now Lyd!" I stood up, waiting for Lydia to drop the shield.

Except she didn't.

Because things just never go according to plan.

Letting out a sigh I back up, and jump over the small shield and the woman behind it. Once over, I see that the flames had stopped, just as I thought they would. I sprint towards the dragon, who is still perched awkwardly on the tower's wall. I re-ignite my left hand as I draw closer to the big lizard.

It's eyes are clearly following my movements, and watching as I draw closer into striking distance.

_C'mon ya big scaly bitch…._

A little closer, and its head lunges forward, mouth open, ready to grab a bite. As its head comes down, I duck and roll right under it. Getting up from the roll, I see I'm right under the dragon's belly. It's head is still down, and for the moment its completely vulnerable.

I run over to the dragon's talons on the wall and begin hacking at one of them with my sword, and burning the other with the flames from my magic.

After four or five chops, I realize that the legs are just as well protected as the scales on the dragon's back.

The dragon head is up, and now looking down on me. But it is distracted, arrows flying towards its face, forcing its attention to Lydia. Looking over to her, I can see that she is in the same spot as before, only this time the shield has been braced in between the loose stones of the tower's roof.

The dragon once again releases more flames toward Lydia, who then ducks behind the braced shield.

"Clever girl…" I mumble. Looking back, I try to find weak points in the dragon's legs. Then it hits me;

_Sure the big scaly legs are protected, but the thin spindly talons seem easy enough to chop off._

Having since paused my efforts with my magic, I grip the hilt of my sword with both hands, hoping for a clean and easy cut. The dragon's talons hang over the stone, almost as if on a beheading block themselves.

With one swing, the talons were sliced off, and my sword made a satisfying sound when it made contact with the stone of the wall.

The dragon's had then lost its hold on the wall, causing it to slide off the wall, sending the unsuspecting dragon falling awkwardly forward, and effectively extinguishing the flames pouring from its mouth. I dive from the one side of the dragon to the other, ready to take the other leg out from under the overgrown lizard.

Getting back up, it's obvious the dragon had gotten back up, steadying itself on its wing. That was expected, but what wasn't expected was Lydia, up close and personal with the dragon's wing, slashing at it with her sword, and bashing it with her shield.

_She's got guts, at least. Now hopefully they aren't ripped out of her…_

Once more, I bring my sword down on the dragon's remaining talons, and slice them off cleanly. Once again, the dragon struggles to gain a foothold on the wall, and with Lydia bashing its wing, has again fallen face-first onto the ground.

The talon-less legs flail about, trying to gain traction or a hold of something to steady themselves on the tower's roof. As they stomp around, its apparent the nasty lizard won't fall on its own. When the stump of a leg stomps onto the ground once again, I sheathe my sword and begin to push the stump back.

Without a stable grip, the dragon can't defend itself from the force, and the first leg slips over the stone wall. The dragon desperately claws at the stone with its wings, and other stump, but isn't capable of holding onto the surface without its talons.

I draw my sword and stab it deep into the dragon's hide, and use the blade as a ledge to pull me up onto the dragon's back. Once on top, I reach down and pull the blade from the dragon's side.

I hop down on the other side of the dragon, and push the other stump off the ledge. The dragon's body began to slide down the side of the tower, the wings desperately trying to grab a hold of anything to keep itself from falling. But with every passing second, more and more of the dragon slides down the side, and over the wall.

I jog calmly to the neck of the nasty lizard, and once again use my sword as a stepping stone to the top of the dragon's hide. Once on top, I walk casually to the center of the dragon's skull and look over to Lydia, who is standing with her sword still drawn and shield at the ready.

The dragon by now is bellowing loudly in pain, no longer trying to grill up some Lydia roast. "Hey, Lyd," I call, "watch this!" I place both hands on the hilt of my sword again and this time, drive it deep into the dragon's skull, silencing the dragon's moans immediately. Blood shoots out, spattering my face and armor.

_Well, that wasn't expected._

I stand, and wipe my face on my armor's sleeve, and spit out the taste of dragon blood from my mouth. "Nasty," I say, but then, a movement from beneath me throws me off balance and throws me to the ground.

Pain erupts from my back as I hit the unforgiving stone, and I can hear Lydia's laughter from here. "Yes," more bitter laughter, "very impressive, _my thane_ " bitter laughter mixed with venomous words, "but next time try to stick the landing, eh?"

_She's just jealous….Ow….oh fuck…._

A slithering sound lets me know the dragon is once again sliding further down. And then, ***boom***.

_Yep, there goes big 'n nasty now._

Looking up, and still thoroughly in pain, I can see I'm right in the fact that the dragon has slipped down the side of the tower, and hit the ground below. Lydia appears next to me then, offering a hand. "Where did you leave the woman, anyway?"

I accept her hand, but push myself off the ground. "Who?" My head is still pounding from the fight and the pain in my back.

"Don't tell me you forgotten _already?_ "

_And cue the angry look- Oh! There it is._

"Umm….still not ringing any bells…Oh! Wait, you mean old toasty back there!" _And just like, that, the wolf snarl is back. Lucky me, survive a dragon just to be mauled to death by a wolf-lady. Lovely day this is turning out to be._ "Right, I put her in the building clear across town." I say as I walk toward the staircase leading down into the tower.

Lydia follows me, of course, but makes no other efforts to talk, so I suppose I already made our friendship super special and lovey-dovey enough for her. As we descend the stairs, the sound of fires crackling and the smell of ash fills the air once more. Exiting the crippled tower, I walk over to the dead dragon, and pull a dagger from its sheathe on my right leg, just above my boot.

"What're you doing?" I hear Lydia call from behind me. "It's already dead, we should go help the woman." Kneeling down, I begin to slash at the scales, and ripping them from the dragon's body.

"Dragon scales are valuable, and I've been told they make good armor. You go check on the woman, I'll be here if you need me." I hear her scoff and then stomp away, the clanking of her shield and sword against her armor making her exit all the more dramatic.

_Well, isn't she a charmer? Simply a lovely woman, lovely woman. Wish I had a girl like that, I might actually want to settle down then._

I crack up laughing. First at the thought of settling down. Second at the thought of Lydia being a lovely and charming woman. I cut and hack at the scales of the dragon, and remove the majority of its larger bones before Lydia gets back.

She walks up to me, stopping only a few feet from the spot where I sit. She carries herself with the same self-righteous gait, however her face is…..emptier then before. No anger, no expression, really she's just staring at the dead beast. Looking her up and down from my crouched position in front of the dragon, I decide to ask, "Something wrong?" Her face is distant, and almost…ghostly.

She looks over at me, finally. Her normally blue eyes now more grey and plain than before. "She's…" I know what she means, and I knew the woman would die. But I didn't know Lydia would actually…. _care._

Standing up, I look her over again, trying to understand what this woman's problem is. "Sorry to hear that, Lyd." And in an instant, her face is again the shadow of a wolf, ready to tear me apart in an instant.

"No you're not! Just a moment ago you were making fun of her state! You called her 'Old toasty'! Do not tell me you are now suddenly 'sorry' for her!" I strained against the urge to roll my eyes, fearing I really would get mauled.

 _Will nothing I say appease this woman!?_ _Okay, Markus maybe try calming her down?_

I put on my best 'I'm serious now' face and try to speak the same way, in an effort to get along with this strange woman. "Have you ever been here before, did you have any relatives or friends here?" I don't know why I thought that might calm her down.

"Whatever was here before is ashes now. So I suppose it wouldn't matter who _was_ here, would it?"

_And cue the dramatic exit. Yep, ladies and gentlemen, there she goes, Lydia the pissed!_

_And of course she left in an angered demeanor,_

_Because things never go according to plans_.


	5. Skulls, Inns, and Old Women

**Markus**

After Lydia's prompt exit, I turn back and gather the dragon scales into a pile to carry back to the horses. But as I finish gathering them, the carcass begins to shake, and suddenly a familiar orange burst of light surrounds the slain dragon at my feet.

The carcass burst into flames, and the orange light encircles me. "Not again," I mumble, dreading the feeling that would soon follow. The orange light bursts into a white light, which is suddenly drawn into me.

My head begins to spin, and before I know it, I'm kneeling on the ground, gasping for my breath. The pain is unbearable, it feels like hot fire is rushing through my veins, incinerating everything it touches. I look at my hands, which are shaking uncontrollably.

I stare at the cobblestones below me as they begin to blur together, I look up at the dragon before me. Where there was once scales and meat, now only bones remain. The skull of the beast seems to smile wickedly at me, as if taunting me for some unseen reason.

The skeleton blurs, then clears continuously, leaving a throbbing inside my head and intensifying the pain shooting through my body.

"-y Thane!" I hear a high pitched voice call, but the sound is harsh on my ears, and I close my eyes, hoping to make everything stop. Make the world stop moving, make the pain just….just….stop.

I open my eyes to a gentle touch on my shoulder, and see the blur of a face. I squint my eyes, trying to clear my vision. As my sight clears, I can see Lydia's face staring down at me. "My Thane, are you alright?"

Her eyes are wide, frantic, even. Her hands cup my face and hold it up, her clear blue-grey eyes pierce down into mine in search for answers. I breathe in once, and try to speak, "Yeah, Lyd I'm just….I just…." I pull my head from her hands, and push myself up from the ground, my head still spinning. "I just need some time." My voice is hoarse and rough. I close my eyes, and try to steady my footing.

"What happened? Where did that light come from?" Her voice scratches at my ears, sending another throb through my head. I hold up my hand, signaling her to stop talking, with the other hand I drag my palm across my forehead in an effort to wipe the screeching sound away.

Everything hits me at once, every noise, every movement, even the light is overwhelming. I can hear the calls from the birds far above us as if they were right next to my head, the crackling of the fire burning throughout the remains of the town, the swaying of the trees in the distance, my own heartbeat pumping frantically, even Lydia's breathing seems painfully loud. And the light.

_Oh, fuck, the light._

The sun has never seemed so bright, even opening my eyes sends a burning through them.

"Can we just, talk about this later? My head…" I open my eyes, ignoring the pain from the light, and see her face is still full of questions. I take a deep breath, and feel the strength in my legs returning.

She speaks again, this time softly, "There's a small town just west of here," she pauses to see my reaction to her voice. "we could go there, and rest at the inn for the night."

_A dark, cozy, quiet inn sounds good right about now. So does sleep…and a hot meal…..some mead, too._

I nod gently, but instantly regret the small motion as the spinning sensation returns. Lydia looks me up and down, then adds, "I'll fetch the horses," her voice is just as soft as before, "you wait here, I won't be long." She then turns and walks at a quick, yet even pace back to the path we came from.

I look back to the scale pile, and sigh.

_Just me, a skeleton, and a pile of ashes, I guess. Just like always._

Flashes of fire, smoke, and wails of pain invade my mind, bringing horrors of a time long since passed back across my mind. I close my eyes and squeeze them tightly, wishing to squeeze the memories from my thoughts.

I focus on the pain shooting through my nerves, on the throbbing in my ears, anything besides my thoughts. Anything besides my memories.

The fire is doused, the smoke cleared away, the wails silenced, the pain shrouded.

* * *

We made it to the town before sunset, and by the time we arrived my body ached all over; every muscle, every bone in me seemed sore. And the horse ride here hadn't helped. The constant motion made everything worse, and by the time the town had come into view, I was on the verge of insanity.

Along the way I caught glimpses of Lydia staring at me; no worry in her face, no anger, no sadness, nothing. Just one person looking at another; part of me was glad when she yelled earlier, glad just to see she was capable of something more than the ghostly expression and personality that seemed to be all she was made up of.

Now, as we walk into the town, her face is just as empty. I can't help but wonder what she's thinking. And I can't imagine she'd ever want to tell me.

The streets are dark, the only light coming from the occasional light post that shatters the cold night with it's warm glow. The town is empty, save for a few night guards on their patrol.

Lydia walks ahead of me, striding comfortably along the street, "The inn is just ahead," she looks back at me, then continues, "are you going to tell me what happened back there?" her voice is even, and smooth. No hint of any emotion. Just a simple, and easy enough question to answer.

Except it's not.

"I'll tell you over dinner, Lyd, I don't want to talk about it here." I say, trying not to sound annoyed or bothered.

She just nods her head and looks forward again. The street is lined with houses and small shops, all made of stone, and all obviously weathered and worn. Looking into one of the shop windows, I see an arrangement of cloth dolls sitting in small wooden chairs at a matching table.

The sound of music breaks my focus from the display, looking back to the street ahead of us, it's apparent that we've reached the center of the town. Bright lanterns illuminate the town's heart, and the music streams joyfully from the inn, echoing through the empty streets and inviting the town's inhabitants to join the fun.

Lydia walks toward the inn, and I follow slowly, wanting to take in the warm feeling coming off this place. Each town in Skyrim I've seen so far has seemed…..cold. Same for the people who live here.

_It's nice to see some signs of life in this wasteland._

As we draw closer to the inn, the sounds of laughter and merriment grow louder, promising a good time for all who enter. The inn itself seems like just another stone building in this small town; square, cold, dull, and overall plain.

But something is different about the inn; the lanterns, the music, the laughter, even the stone that make up the walls seem to call to out to me, and invite me inside.

Lydia walks up to the large wooden door and pulls it open firmly, and it's then obvious where all the townspeople spend their nights.

* * *

**Lydia**

I hold the door open for Markus to pass through, which he does so excitedly. Inside, the people of the town fill every table, chair, corner, and crevice of the room. Each one of them either singing, laughing, yelling, or as the case with the couples in the space, acting as though they are in _dire_ need of a room.

Markus's head turns from side to side, searching the room for a table, most likely.

I look to my right and see a fat, burly nord seated in a chair in the far corner, with a small blonde elf woman sitting in his lap, with her legs astride his hips. The two were kissing…..quite fervently. But then the tan, blonde elf broke the kiss and whispered something in the nord's ear before she leaned back, and smiled at him wickedly. The nord smiled back and bellowed out a laugh, his dark beard shaking with every heave of his large mead-gut. The elf jumped up, and ran playfully to the staircase at the far end of the room, with the nord in pursuit of her.

I sigh, and tap on Markus's shoulder, knowing that talking would be useless with the barrage of sounds around us. He turns his head back, and I point to the some-what secluded, vacant table in the corner. Markus looks over at it, nods his head, and walks toward it.

As we sit down, I can see Markus's face has completely changed from earlier; he seemed much more lively, the pain I'd seen in his eyes earlier was gone, and he had a large smile on his face.

_But what were those lights? And why won't he talk about it?_

I'd turned back from walking away, and saw Markus, surrounded by orange light, which swirled around his tall form, as the dragon's body burst into flames and burned until there was nothing but bones left. Then the orange light was replaced by a white flare, which was then sucked into Markus.

And then he collapsed.

It was easy to forget my duties when he was being the insensitive idiot he is, but when he could've been hurt, or dead, for all I knew, it was different.

_I've been a fool._

" _Try to stay as distant as possible. From him and his words."_ Irileth had told me. But I'm a fool, and did not see what she had actually meant.

_By 'distant' she meant in mind, not in actual distance. If I'd actually known what she was telling me, I would have known not to let his words anger me, I would have known to stay calm…..to stay….isolated. And turning my back on Markus was a mistake. A fool's mistake…my mistake._

Markus's face as I held his head up flashed through my mind. The veins in his forehead straining, the pain in his eyes, his gasps for breath as he was kneeling on the ground…..

_I will_ _**never** _ _let that happen again. No matter what he does, I_ _**will** _ _protect him, from dragons or bandits or even his own damn self. His words mean nothing, I won't let them effect me again._

Fingers snapping in front of me stir me from my thoughts, and I realize I've been staring at Markus, in a daze. "You okay, Lyd?"

_Stupid nickname…Doesn't matter._

"Yes, I was just thinking….." The small candle at our table expose lines on his face that make him seem tired, maybe even older. A serving wench approached us before Markus could say anything.

"Aye, there, what'll it be, you two? We've got a fresh shipment of Black-Briar Mead, straight from the brewery!" I turn to see a rather short redguard woman with a large smile on her face, and her hands filled with mead glasses. Her hair was dark, same as her eyes, and her skin tone a light brown with small freckles covering her face. She was very pretty, but a large scar ran from her left shoulder across her chest and below the neckline of her bodice. The scar was obviously from a sabre cat, the space between each claw mark gave it away. "And…uh, if you're interested, we've got some skooma in the back, there handsome." The woman winked at Markus, who smiled, and laughed at his mention.

"I think we'll just have two meads and whatever the cook has for dinner," Markus said evenly.

"Comin' right up," the woman said cheerfully, "though good luck holdin' the food down." and with that, she was gone.

Looking around the room, I try to find a familiar face. I'd been to this town before, though it was years ago when I was just a kid. I was hoping to see anyone I might recognize, but only drunkards, wenches, and a couple stormcloak soldiers were to be seen.

"So…about earlier, at the town?" Markus asked, grabbing my attention. I turn back, hoping for a clear answer. He looked into my eyes for a minute before he continued, "Well, the lights you saw? That was the dragon's soul." Markus's eyes dropped to the table then. "And that's how I absorb them, after they're dead," his voice was more quiet now.

It made sense, perfect sense, and I can't believe I hadn't figured it out before. He had to absorb the soul somehow, but I didn't think it would be like _that_.

"So, what does it feel like? To absorb a dragon's soul?" My voice sounded small, childish, but I didn't care, my curiosity taking hold of me.

His eyes looked up from the table, and the emerald green color seemed brighter than ever. He looked into my eyes for a moment, before looking into the flame of the small candle at our table. The noise around us seemed to have quieted, or perhaps it was just me drowning everything but his voice out; whichever it was, it didn't matter.

"Well, you know how when you eat way too much, your stomach feels like it's gonna just burst open?" He looked up from the small flame, and I nodded for him to continue, though I was confused about the relation between food and dragon souls. "It feels a lot like that, like…..like…." He looked back to the candle, "like I'm gonna tear at the seams," he sighed, lifted his hand from under the table, and ran his fingers over the flickering light of the candle. "or like the dragon's soul is fighting me from the inside, trying to rip me apart."

I tried to picture what it must feel like, but imagining a pain like that….just doesn't seem real.

The redguard woman returned, balancing two plates on either of her arms, and holding two large glasses of mead. Markus looked up and smiled at the woman as she set the plates down before us, "Thank you," She smiled at him and was about to turn away when he continued talking, "also, do you think we could get two rooms for the night?"

"Well a' course, this _is_ an inn, isn't it?" She gave Markus a sly smile, and waded her way back through the crowd.

The meat on our plates was impossible to identify, but my stomach cried out for food. We ate in silence for a long while, but I couldn't stop the questions from flowing through my mind.

"So, is that going to happen all the time?" He looked up from his meal with a slightly confused face. "The pain, I mean, it'll stop eventually, right? You just have to get used to it?"

He took a sip of his mead and spoke, "I honestly don't know, the Greybeards didn't tell me much, and there's not a bunch of Dragonborn running around to ask, so…..I hope so, but…." his eyes glazed over, his brow furrowed, and the realization set in. For both of us.

The realization that no matter what happens, we're on our own with this Dragonborn-thing.

The meal left much to be desired, but our conversations were improving. At no point during dinner did I feel the need to talk back, or roll my eyes, or even think an insulting remark.

Then again, dinner only lasted about twenty minutes.

After that, we headed off to our rooms for the night, seeing as how we both were tired from the day's events.

The room was small, and certainly not the cleanest, but it had a bed and that was good enough for me. Soon we'll be sleeping outdoors in the charmingly vicious Skyrim wilderness. But at least for one more night, I can rest with the comfort of having four walls and a door around me.

As I lay in the straw-filled mattress, the sound of the festivities downstairs are hard to ignore, but with time, my senses numb, and I slip off to sleep.

* * *

**Markus**

_Kneeling on the ground, I gasp for my breath, desperate for air. Looking around me, I see blackness everywhere. I try to pick myself up off the ground, but my body feels impossibly heavy. I close my eyes and wish myself awake._

"This is no dream, Dovahkiin." a deep voice echoes from above. I open my eyes and look everywhere, frantic to find the source of the voice. "Not a dream and not a nightmare,"

My breathing completely stops, my lungs burn for air, my veins are on fire again, the same crippling pain as before. A figure appears before me, huge, black, with gold eyes. The dragon from before. "No, this is something far worse," Wake up….wake up…..please wake up….

"This is your past," the blackness erupts into a familiar scene; in the middle of a dense forest, the weight of the chains around my chest, squeezing the life from me as the tree across from me burns, the screams and wails piercing my ears as the body chained to it is reduced to ashes, only then do the screams stop. Tears stream down my face, I would be screaming, crying, anything, but I can't. I can't breathe, I can't scream, I can't move.

"this is your present," a blinding white light flashes, and then everything is different. The remains of the town from today lay before me, but the corpses are wailing, screaming just as…just as….No….no more….I close my eyes, and try to look away, but some unseen force holds my head forward, as the people cling to life, as they cry out to their Gods, beg for help….No more…no more…

"and this," the voice stops to laugh, "is your future, dovah." Another white light, and now….Whiterun lays before me in shambles, just as the last town, the flames burn, the people scream, but Lydia lays before me, burning alive as she screams for my help, screams for me to do something, to save her…but…I can't….I watch as her pale, smooth face turns black, and charred.

I jump up from my dream, my body coated in sweat. I look around the small, dirty room, and breath in deep, thankful I can move again…..And breath.

Throwing my sheets to the side, I put my feet on the ground, and put my head in my hands. "What the hell was that?" I feel sweat roll down my abs and back, the cool sensation somewhat comforting, somewhat annoying.

My eyes are heavy with need of sleep, but after that….Sleep doesn't seem all that appealing. I grab a red cambric shirt from my pack at the foot of the bed, and pull it over my head quickly, then pull a pair of brown hide pants from my pack, and slip them on. I reach under the bead and pull my boots on, tucking my pants into my boots.

I stand up, and walk to the door, opening it, it's obvious the party downstairs has since ended, the noise having died down considerably. I walk down the short hall, past Lydia's room on my right, and reach the staircase. I walk down the stairs gently, not wanting to make any noise that might wake anyone, mostly Lydia, up.

Once I was down the stairs, I could see that only a few lonely drunks were left over, each mumbling to themselves about something or other in their little spots at the bar. I walk casually through the tables, which are all covered in mead and mysterious substances.

I reached the large wooden door, and was about to push it open, when a small voice spoke behind me, "Leaving so soon? It's not even sunrise yet," I turn to see the serving girl standing at the other end of the room, broom in hand, staring at me.

I look around the room, trying to find a door she might've passed through to get there while I was walking away, but I don't see any. I smile, trying to not to let my unease show. "Nah, no one can get rid of me that easy," I turn back and push the door open before she can reply.

Stepping outside, the lanterns are no longer glowing, and the town has taken on a new persona. Where there was once warmth and cheerfulness, there's now just…emptiness.

I walk through the streets, my breath showing in the cold air, and goose bumps forming on my skin. It's funny how no matter how warm it is outside when you go to bed here, it's always cold when you wake up. Maybe it's just Skyrim welcoming its inhabitants back to a land of misery and death, after having pleasant dreams and friendly company in their beds they need a taste of the real world.

I walk down the streets, not bothering where I am, or where I'm going, or caring whether I could find my way back to the inn. Lydia prodded me for answers, and I have what I could, but the one question she asked only made more questions to answer: Was the pain going to stop?

A simple, easy enough question to answer.

Except, it wasn't.

It just forced more questions.

_What if the pain doesn't stop? Does that mean every time I kill a dragon, I'm going to be writhing around in blaring pain? How many dragons are there, actually? How long am I going to have to do this for? What if it never ends? Do I just keep fighting and fighting and fighting until I die? Until a dragon finally kills me? When does it end?…How does it end? …..And why me?_

I see a small stone bench to the end of the street, and decide to sit down for a minute, and clear my head. I lean back against the cool stone, and breathe in. I open my eyes and look across the street to see a familiar shop, with cloth dolls in the window.

I look along the small tables and reach on that catches my eye; a doll, slightly larger and considerably tanner than the rest faces me, wearing a red shirt, brown pants, and small boots. The doll has spiky black hair…..and green eyes.

My eyes open wide, as I notice next to that doll, a small, pale one with grey cloth armor complete with a shield and sword sits with it. The second doll has medium length, brown hair, with one braid in the front, and steel grey eyes, with rings of blue.

My breathing picks up, and I close my eyes and reopen them, trying to grasp what was in front of me. Then, I notice a small shape moving around the shop, heading towards the door. I watch as an old lady steps out of the door, her long grey hair behind her shoulders, wearing a long fur coat, and winter boots. She notices me immediately, and strides over to the bench as if she'd done it a dozen times before.

I look back to the dolls and the back to her wrinkled face. She follows my gaze and smiles at the dolls, then turns back to me with the same smile. "Yes, I knew you were coming long before you were born, lad. I knew you'd sit on this very bench, and I knew you'd become the Dragonborn." I feel my face stuck somewhere between 'Get away from me crazy lady' and 'I just pissed myself'.

"That's an awful lot of knowing," she laughed at that, but her laugh broke into a sickly cough, and she sat on the bench to steady herself.

"I suppose," she coughed a bit more, "it is a lot of knowing, but I also know you have many questions, questions you deserve to have answered, my boy." staring into her light blue eyes and wizened, yet friendly face remind me of the feeling I had when I saw the inn, last night; intrigued, trusting, and…warmed, just by her presence. "So, ask your questions, but only ask what you're prepared to know."


End file.
